


Where Train Tracks Meet

by CodeDuello



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, this is for a fic contest dont mind me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodeDuello/pseuds/CodeDuello
Summary: Modern AU- Callum, needing a break from his father, explores abandoned buildings and runs into a young girl who has a lot more in common than they realize.
Relationships: Callum & Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Where Train Tracks Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first TDP fanfiction, so bear with me (this is being written for a fic contest). It's a modern day AU of Callum exploring an abandoned train station and meeting Rayla. Harrow is the owner of a large company, and Sarai is long dead from an illness. In this story, Callm is 12 and Rayla is 13. I’m focusing on pre-season one character development, which is why Callum is still bitter towards Ezran and King Harrow. Enjoy!

Callum walked the halls of the old train station, his gloved fingers gently brushing the wall as he moved past. He’d been exploring abandoned buildings since he was young, a pastime that he couldn’t seem to shake, but this building felt...odd. Odd in the sense of something...new. 

Callum didn’t like _new_

Gripping his backpack, he climbed the rusty stairs to the second level, a balcony looking down onto the train tracks below him. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine the bustling manners of the building, people in top hats and long dresses hurrying by, trying to get to the place they needed to be. 

Callum took a deep breath. 

It was nice to get away, get away from his father who it seemed that he could never please. Get away from his younger brother _who only reminded him of his mother-_

Callum took a deep breath. 

He began to walk the balcony, wary of spots that looked too rusty or spots that caved in. He’d gotten enough injuries exploring these places- to his father's dismay- and was almost banned from exploring all together. 

Almost. 

He just needed to get away from the suffocating world of his father's enterprise. He needed to get away from the snobbish men in tuxedos, the women who always smelled like liquor. Yes, he understood that the company was _important_ but why should it matter to him? 

Ezran would inherit the company anyway. 

Not that he cared. 

His hand brushed past another wall, the fabric peeling off from years of abandonment. But something stopped him. A smooth, melodious sound coming from the other side of the wall, almost as if someone was...humming? 

He leaned in closer to listen, but the wall gave way, and he found himself tumbling into the room on the other side of the wall. The sharp, dry wood nicked at his arms as he tried to collect himself when suddenly there was a boot on his chest, pinning him down. 

“What do you think you’re _doing?_ ” Callum opened his eyes to find a girl, no older than he was, staring down at him.

And she had a small pocket knife pointed at him.

“What are you doing here,” she demanded.

Her thick accent caught him off guard. What was that, Scottish? Irish? _Why was her hair white?_

“Were you _following me?_

_What? Oh, right. Girl with the knife._

“I’m not _following_ anybody,” Callum said, trying to push himself up onto his elbows. The girl slowly released her foot, but her small knife remained steady. “I just fell through the wall, alright? Just let me leave, and I’ll get out of your way.” 

While she considered his answer, Callum glanced around the small room. There were pillows stacked in the corner, gatorade bottles on the floor. 

“Do you _live_ here?” He blurted. 

The girl blushed, before crossing her arms and frowning. “Of course not,” she said defiantly. “It’s my hideout.” She lowered the hood of her sweatshirt almost reluctantly. For the first time, Callum noticed her purple eyes, lighting up underneath the rays of sun that flooded into the station-

“And _you_ just broke it,” she argued.

Callum blinked, before glancing at the demolished wall behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Whatever,” she grumbled, folding up her pocket knife and tucking it inside her jeans. 

Callum glanced around the room, searching for another entrance for other places to explore, but…

“How’d you get in here, anyway?” He asked. “There's no door.”

The girl smirked and pointed upwards. Callums gaze rested on a vent no larger than a suitcase. _How on earth did she get up there then?_

“So what are _you_ doing here anyway?” She asked. 

“Just exploring,” Callum said, grateful that his voice didn’t betray his heart rate slowly picking up. Harrow would be _so_ angry at him if he came home saying that he got beat up by some random girl. 

The girl frowned. “So you’re _not_ a creepy man trying to kidnap me?” 

“What?” Callum said. “ _No.”_

“Huh,” she shrugged, picking up a water bottle off of the floor and taking a sip out of it. “My stepfather always warned me about those types of people.”

“Is that why you have a knife?”

She looked him dead in the eye. “Sure,” she said, giving him a fake smile. 

Callum swallowed. “You, uh...you have a stepdad?” 

“Yu-p,” she said, emphasizing the _p._ “He means well, but he can be overbearing.” She plopped down onto a pillow. “Which is why I hang out here.” 

“I know the feeling,” Callum said, beginning to sit down. When she didn’t object, he flopped down onto a pillow. “I feel like the only one who understood me was my Mom.”

“ _Was?_ ” The girl questioned. 

“She died a while ago,” Callum said numbly.

“Oh. I guess I know the feeling, too,” she murmured.

They both sat in silence. 

“I’m going to make the decision to trust you,” the girl said suddenly. She stretched out a hand. “My name’s Rayla.” 

Callum glanced at the hand. He needed to go, get back to the mansion before he got in trouble. Everything that he learned growing up was screaming at him to _leave, you shouldn't trust some random girl she has a knife why aren’t you leaving-_ but…

Callum looked down at her stretched out hand and took it.

“Callum,” he said. He pulled a deck of cards out from his backpack. "Down for a game?”

**Author's Note:**

> so uh if you somewhat enjoyed this let me know! I might consider writing more TDP based fanfictions in the future.


End file.
